


But perhaps love is even stronger

by ironicpalmtree



Series: It's a love-hate relationship [2]
Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter/Funhaus RPF
Genre: Fluff and Angst, M/M, Possible a teensy bit of torture, cheesy ending, spy AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-20
Updated: 2016-11-20
Packaged: 2018-09-01 04:46:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,782
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8608540
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ironicpalmtree/pseuds/ironicpalmtree
Summary: Once again, Gavin Free found himself hating Ryan Haywood.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Annnnd I'm back. Took a bit longer than anticipated...
> 
> This story will probably make a lot more sense if you read the first part 'Hate is a very strong word'...you know...first.
> 
> Otherwise, enjoy!

Once again, Gavin Free found himself hating Ryan Haywood.

 

And once again, Gavin Free found himself sipping moodily from a champagne flute as he watched the older agent from across the room.

 

Ryan was clad - as was Gavin - in a dark tuxedo; the midnight blue fabric complementing the ice of his eyes perfectly. His honeyed hair was combed into a neat sweep across his forehead which made him seem sophisticated - Gavin supposed that he was.

 

His partner was particularly handsome tonight, with a gold smattering of neat stubble and a silken tie that caught the light as Ryan moved. Of course, his appearance was perfectly constructed for the mission, not that this fact made Gavin any happier. 

 

Ryan was working his way through a textbook seduction, the results of which would allow Gavin to sneak into the upper quarters of the mansion and plant a virus within the complicated computer server that was based there.

 

The USB that contained the program burned like a hot coal in his pocket and Gavin shifted uncomfortably as he continued his observance of Ryan’s interaction. The woman he was talking to was strikingly beautiful. Perfect ringlets of copper fell in waves down her slight shoulders, the red of her hair almost iridescent against the black of her evening gown. Large, slanted eyes and alabaster skin gave their target an air of regality and she held herself as such as she talked to the hidden agent before her.

 

Even Gavin could not deny that the woman was stunning.

 

She was also extremely rich and currently providing the funds for a particularly elusive spy ring within Europe. Known as ‘The Baroness’ within their systems, RT AGENCIES had been tracking her movements for months, attempting to tie her ‘business’ to suspicious events throughout the continent.

 

Failing to achieve this from the remote safety of their Austin headquarters, Gavin and Ryan had been sent to her Montreal residence in order to steal the required information directly from her systems. 

 

A high peal of laughter fell from her luscious lips as Ryan said something close to her ear; she rested long, manicured fingers on his shoulder as she leaned in further. The older agent grinned back at her, a little toothy and eyes shining bright. 

 

The look alone made Gavin’s stomach drop - it was if a stone had settled in his gut.

 

This was not the face Ryan used when he was flirting or seducing a certain target. That required a razor-sharp smile or a self-satisfied smirk. ‘Ryan the seducer’ would stand slightly slouched, hands in his pockets and a self-assured aura surrounding him. This Ryan was standing tall, chest puffed out and shoulders drawn back as if his size alone would impress the woman. He had a goofy look on his face, eyes glazed over and teeth biting at pink lips.

 

This look, Gavin recognised.

 

It was the expression Ryan would wear while he stroked Gavin’s hair and murmured sweet words into his neck or shoulders. It was the expression he had after Gavin would pull away from a kiss or while he tugged the Brit closer to him at night.

 

Ryan was genuinely and utterly infatuated with this woman - and Gavin could hardly blame him.

 

He walked by the pair on his way to the bar - a position that was predetermined to provide the most convenient and covert access to the stairs. Gavin could not help but snatch a part of their low conversation as he strode purposely past them. 

 

“Ah Monsieur - you must visit the south of France with me… we would have the most glorious of times...” Her heavy French accent made her seem even more exotic - if that were possible - and Ryan let out a noise that sounded suspiciously like a hapless giggle.

 

The sound sent a sharp pain stabbing through Gavin’s chest and he sneaked a glance at his partner as he settled himself upon a polished stool.

 

Ryan looked very much like a love-struck puppy as he leaned in closer and whispered excitedly in ‘the Baroness’’ ear. She murmured something back before taking his hand and gliding smoothly across the dance floor. Her security detail took notice of her impending departure and followed closely behind - all eyes focused critically upon Ryan.

 

Gavin took his chance and slipped unnoticed into the hallway; stepping silently up the now abandoned stairs and into the server room. From here he worked quickly, fingers flying across the keyboard as he waited for the USB to boot itself up on the main monitor.

 

The program dubbed ‘CREEPER’ was one of Gavin’s own creations and he was justifiably proud of his work. The virus would slowly siphon information away from the servers while simultaneously burying itself deeper within the network. The stolen information would travel through numerous data bases before finally returning to the Austin system. It was nigh unnoticeable within the mass of files already held in the server-base -the perfect weapon. 

 

The hack was finished surprisingly quick and Gavin hurried himself from the room. Fingers scrabbled at his bow-tie as he ran quietly back down the stairs and into one of the numerous side halls that branched from the ballroom.

 

He felt overheated and dizzy as he barged into the bathroom, throwing his arms out to support himself on the white granite bench. Shaking hands reached for silver-gilded taps and the rushing of blood in his ears seemed to block out almost all noise.

 

Almost. But not everything.

 

A sharp intake of breath caught Gavin’s attention, movement tickling at his periphery. The Brit let out an involuntary shout as he fully faced the two other people in the room.

 

‘The Baroness’ had Ryan pinned up against the bathroom wall, tongue plundering his mouth as he ran his fingers through her flaming hair. They broke apart at Gavin’s startled cry, the French woman looked somewhat irked at the intrusion while Ryan was struggling for composure. Gavin strove to not let his gaze linger on pink-tinged cheeks and a heaving chest.

 

“Oh sorry love...forgive me mate…” He layered his accent on thickly, backing quickly towards the exit. He forced a rueful grin to stretch his cheeks as their target dismissed him with a wave of her ring-covered hand. His sweaty palm found purchase with the brass knob of the door and he forced himself to not meet Ryan’s gaze.

 

“I’ll...just let you get back to it then.”

 

***

 

Gavin slipped on the near frozen ground as he stormed away from the mansion. The packed dirt and snow that formed the pathway was already being reclaimed by the large flakes that descended from above. He grumbled as his shoes sank further into the slush, acutely aware of his now saturated socks and numbing toes.

 

The British agent pulled his coat tighter around his wiry form as he trudged towards the non-descript black sedan they had acquired upon arriving in Montreal. He turned on the heat as soon as he slid into the vehicle, stuffing his hands inside his pockets and pulling his scarf up around his nose. 

 

He fiddled for a moment with the chair’s mechanism before he reclined and allowed himself to close his eyes. Hot tears burned at his lids but he pushed them away, dismissing his fragile emotional state to a combination of exhaustion and over-stress.

 

It did not take long for Ryan to appear outside the car. The dark colour of his suit made it seem like he materialised from the cloud of mist and snow that heralded the beginnings of a blizzard.

 

Ryan did not say a word as he started the car engine - choosing instead to turn up the radio and hum along with the tune. High flags of colour still decorated his cheeks, though Gavin could not determine if this was still a result of his earlier excitement or from the stinging cold caress of the night air.

 

The older agent looked troubled as they entered the hotel room, as if a thousand words were upon the tip of his tongue but he had no way in which to express them. Gavin prevented any form of conversation by curtly declaring; “The hack was successful agent Haywood.” before grabbing a pillow and blanket and collapsing on the lounge.

 

Ryan murmured a soft goodnight before retreating into the bedroom and turning off the lights.

 

********************

 

“Gavin!”

 

His name was snapped out in a biting tone, the irritation in Ryan’s shout clear across the earpiece feed.

 

“Oops.” The sarcasm sent his voice careening into a bitter monotone, of which there was no doubt Ryan caught across the grainy audio system.

 

“You're meant to be watching the cameras!” He hissed - Gavin could hear the faint click as he reloaded a pistol. Shouts echoed from the speaker in his ear, but Gavin did not confirm Ryan’s predicament by glancing at the security feed. A pleased smile curled at his lips as he imagined the bullet wound that now punctured Ryan’s bicep.

 

He finished the hack in a lightened mood and then spirited himself out of the complex to wait for Ryan by the car.

 

Ryan limped from the darkness sometime later, the ink of the night shadows seemed to cling to his face; accentuating the heavy set of his brow and the downward turn of his scowl.

 

Gavin was broken from his musings by a rough hand seizing the front of his jumpsuit - his spine cracked as he was slammed against the side of the car.

 

A fathomless ocean captured Gavin’s eye as Ryan levelled him with a furious gaze; the Brit’s throat bobbed as he swallowed thickly.

 

“Are you insane?” Ryan’s growl was almost guttural as his grip tightened in Gavin’s clothes.

 

“You almost compromised the entire mission to pursue some sort of vindictive pettiness against me!” 

 

He let out a feral snarl before whirling away from Gavin and wrenching the driver-side door open. 

 

The engine started but Gavin did not slide himself into the passenger seat. Instead he shoved his hands into his pockets and stormed away from the rumbling vehicle - determined to lose himself in the cold and the silence of the night.

 

********************

 

The lacquered oak felt like sandpaper upon Gavin’s palms as he shoved it open.  
He threw himself into the supple leather of a chair, crossing his arms and lifting his eyes to meet Geoff’s sleepy gaze.

 

“I suppose they never taught you to knock at MI5?” The quartermaster’s voice was a lazy drawl as he put down his pen and turned to face Gavin more directly. He raised an eyebrow in silent indication that Gavin could voice his pertinent request.

 

“I want Turney.” His voice abruptly punctured the thick silence of the room; the simplicity of his words making him seem almost childish in the face of Geoff’s calm indifference.

 

A brief flash of surprise passed across the quartermaster’s grey eyes before his face settled once more into impassivity - Gavin was once again reminded of how good an agent Geoff really was.

 

Tattooed fingers intertwined with each other - like twisting vines - as Geoff fixed him with a steady look. “And may I ask why you find such a sudden change in partnership necessary?”

 

Gavin felt his cheeks redden with embarrassment and anger - his fingers tightened in the denim of his jeans, nails digging in and breaking several seams. His voice was low and serious when he next spoke.

 

“Agent Haywood was right. I came close to compromising the mission and I wish to not do so again.” 

 

The formality of his language again seemed to surprise Geoff, especially considering the closeness of their relationship. He came to stand beside the foreign agent, curling a comforting arm around his shoulders.

 

“I understand buddy...he was being a right fucker wasn't he?”

 

Gavin nodded numbly before murmuring his thanks and taking his leave. The resounding thud of the door seemed to reverberate in his chest and only accentuated the ache in his heart.

 

********************

 

Michael’s laughter followed him as he stumbled into the kitchen, struggling to contain giggles of his own. 

 

Gavin’s mirth died away as his eyes alighted on Ryan’s slouched form by the fridge.

 

The older man watched him with a listless gaze, the familiar flame of affection now extinguished and replaced by a frosty disinterest.

 

Dark circles were layered under his golden lashes and Gavin noticed the stark whiteness of a bandage peaking out from beneath the collar of his sweatshirt. Ryan held himself stiffly, as if his legs were struggling to hold his own weight and Gavin was taken aback by how battered and bruised the other man seemed.

 

The older agent had refused another partner after Gavin’s abrupt reassignment, instead choosing to take a series of solo jobs in Central America - continuing his attempt to eradicate the mafia faction located there. Gavin had always taken issue with his partner’s disregard for his own safety but he pushed the concern away from the forefront of his conscience and instead gave Ryan a polite nod as he trundled towards the coffee machine.

 

His former partner did not return the gesture, although his eyes did not seem to leave Gavin as he turned his back to him. Gavin had always been acutely aware of the way Ryan’s intense gaze seemed to brand him, like a point of concentrated fire upon his being. It usually served to quicken his pulse and bring a blush to his tan cheeks, however in their current circumstances it only made Gavin’s gut twist itself into ever tighter knots.

 

The buzz of the coffee machine broke the tension that was building between them and Gavin allowed himself to become transfixed by the twisting pillar of rich brown liquid that splashed into his white ceramic mug. He hastily dumped sugar and a dollop of milk into his cup before hurrying from the room, unable to bear Ryan’s oppressive presence a moment longer.

 

***

 

Meg gave a shout as Michael pushed her, matching grins lighting up both of their youthful faces. She stumbled backwards a few steps before she lost her footing and fell into Gavin’s lap. His desk chair rolled a few feet backwards with the force of her landing. 

 

Jeremy was kneeling on the floor, a fist stuffed into his mouth and choked noises leaving him as he tried to contain his laughter. Even Michael’s cheeks were a bright red as the four of them struggled to regain their breath.

 

Gavin tightened his grip around Meg’s waist, putting his lips by her ear and taking a breath. He reached for his cheesiest American accent before whispering - loud enough for the others to hear - “Don’t worry mam, I’ll protect you.” His British inflection mangled the cowboy stereotype and Michael loosed another guffaw as he stood and started making his way towards the breakroom.

 

The huffs of their heaving breaths gradually faded, leaving them to rest in comfortable silence. Jeremy eventually pulled himself up from the floor and returned to his desk - the tap of fingers upon a keyboard filled the room with an unsteady rhythm.

 

The door to the main office barged open as Ryan limped in. His stealth suit was torn in several places and a bloodstained bandage was hastily wrapped around his forearm. The older man seemed exhausted beyond measure and he leaned heavily on Jeremy as the shorter agent jumped up to support him.

 

His tired gaze danced over Gavin and Meg, eyes narrowing as he took note of her position resting upon the Brit’s lap. A quiet anger flared in his cerulean irises, Gavin only caught it briefly before the older man turned away and shuffled, with the aid of Jeremy, towards the infirmary.

 

***

 

Gavin threw himself violently over to the other side of his bed. His overheated skin was soothed by the cool surface of untouched linen.

 

He turned his eyes blearily towards the clock that resided on his nightstand. 2:49 am was displayed in a lurid green, pervading his bedroom in a soft, unearthly glow. Sleep had alluded him thus far; he could not force himself to sink into an uneasy slumber and rather endured hours of fitful tossing and writhing about on his queen sized bed.

 

His fingers twitched as he resisted the urge to reach for his phone. He longed to contact one specific person, one who he knew with utmost certainty would not answer his call. Still, this did not stop Gavin from craving his solid touch and the strength of his arms as they wrapped around his waist. The warmth of his embrace and his steady breath brushing by his ear.

 

Gavin wondered if sleep evaded Ryan as it did himself.

 

********************

 

The garish light from the casino’s neon signs seemed to wash all colour from Gavin’s face. He sat comfortably upon a bench outside the grand building, listening to the Shanghai traffic bustle around him.

 

Michael and Meg’s measured breathing was all he could hear as he listened to their progress through his earpiece. 

 

His separation from them made him anxious, and cold beads of sweat ran down his spine as he watched the security guards pace around the entrance of ‘The Golden Palace Casino’. It was rare that three agents would be sent on a mission simultaneously, but it reinforced to Gavin the need for them to succeed. 

 

His part had already been played earlier in the night. A simple hack of the security feeds and then a drunken commotion at one of the Blackjack tables that allowed Michael and Meg to slip into the restricted area unnoticed.

 

Now he waited.

 

The keys to his motorcycle felt heavy in his trouser pocket and his knees bounced erratically as he waited for the two other agents to finish their infiltration. The feeling that he was being watched only increased as the minutes dragged by and Gavin found himself drawing in ragged breaths.

 

His reaction confused him - he had never experienced such anxiety while working with Ryan. But then again the older agent had an atmosphere of certainty about himself that never failed to sooth Gavin’s jagged nerves.

 

Michael’s frantic whisper suddenly burst forth, muffled footsteps notifying Gavin to their now hasty exit. “Gavin get to the motorcycle now!”

 

Ignoring his trembling legs, Gavin rose casually, pulling his phone from his pocket and displaying the epitome of nonchalance as he slouched past the security guards and into a side alley. The discordant buzz of horns and whining car engines faded behind the wall of crumbling brick.

 

Light suddenly burst into the alleyway as Michael and Meg stumbled from the building. Shouts echoed inside the casino before Michael slammed the door and dragged several cinder blocks in front of it. 

 

Gavin climbed onto one of the bikes while tossing Meg the other set of keys. Michael clambered on behind her and the rumble of the two engines echoed loudly as they roared to life. The shouting drew closer and a muffled pounding could be heard before Michael screamed at the both of them to”fucking floor it.”

 

They shot from behind the building and into the heavily-congested traffic of the Shanghai CBD. Gavin followed closely behind Meg as she wove between scooters and taxis, swerving to avoid collisions and turning sharply to throw any pursuers off their tail.

 

Gavin gripped the handlebars tightly as he leaned heavily to the right, screeching around a corner and narrowly missing a pedestrian as they hurried across the road. Michael was shouting in his earpiece but he couldn’t discern what he was saying - the whistle of the wind in his ears and the beeps of disgruntled drivers drowned out everything else.

 

It drowned out the sound of an approaching car and the crack as a bullet sailed through the air and imbedded itself in Gavin’s side. The foreign agent yelped before swerving his bike and crashing into a pile of scaffolding. The front tire was still spinning as a black car pulled up beside his unconscious form. Two men quickly dragged him from the wreckage and into the back of the armoured vehicle, leaving behind a smear of fresh blood.

 

Meg screamed and made to wrench the bike around. Michael stopped her, grimly holding onto her wrist as they continued onwards down the street. The mission brief had been clear - the information was far more important than any one of them.

 

********************

 

Gavin woke slowly - his head throbbed to the beat of his sluggish pulse and his vision remained a blurred smudge of colour.

 

Eventually his eyes adjusted to the room and he forced himself to survey his surroundings. 

 

He sat in a concrete cellar - the air was damp and mould grew in the corners of the ceiling, leading Gavin to believe he was located in some sort of basement. In the room was a chair, of which both his legs were chained to, and a table, to which his wrists were currently strapped.  
Both were bolted to the floor.

 

The metal bonds around his wrist and ankles were already chafing his skin, the coldness of the chains bit into his arms and forced light tremors to wrack his body. His side ached but Gavin could tell that the bullet wound had been patched up to prevent him from bleeding out. 

 

He forced himself to remain calm, counting his shallow breaths and attempting to ease the shivers that had begun again. Gavin flinched as the door to his cell banged open and three men filed in. Two were clad almost entirely in black and carried nasty looking assault rifles - they stationed themselves on either side of the door.

 

The third was dressed in an expensive Armani suit and wore a cold grin upon his face as he approached the table. The chill of dread flooded through Gavin as he recognised the cruel lines of the other man’s face - a prominent member within the Chinese triads, ‘Dage Yi’ or Big Brother One as he was called within the Austin database.

 

“Oh my.” His words were clipped and devoid of any discernible accent, dark eyes alight with a vicious glee as he stared at Gavin. A gloved hand reached out for Gavin’s hair, he could feel the fineness of the silk as the fingers tangled in his unruly tresses. Without warning, Dage Yi yanked him downwards, smashing his face into the solid steel of the table.

 

Gavin let out a groan as his nose broke with a sickening crunch. A copper taste filled his mouth and his vision swam as the triad leader drew closer.

 

“Oh my,” he repeated in a soft voice, “I am going to have some fun with you.”

 

***

 

Bright spots began to decorate Gavin’s vision and his lungs burned from the lack of air. The awaiting darkness of unconsciousness called to him and Gavin allowed himself to fall into its awaiting embrace.

 

A hand curled like a vice around his neck and wrenched his head from the bucket - air flooded his lungs as Gavin gasped twice before he was thrust back underwater again.

 

Four days.

 

It had been four days since his capture in Shanghai - although it may have been shorter or longer, as time seemed meaningless in the perpetual twilight of his prison. 

 

Gavin had endured much in that short amount of time. Cuts and bruises littered his body and a gnawing hunger clawed at his stomach. His existence centred entirely around pain and Gavin was finding it hard to hold onto his tenacity as Dage Yi and his subordinates worked so hard to wear him down.

 

He let out another gasp as he was wrenched from the water yet again, moaning as his head was slammed twice in quick succession into the table that he was still bolted to. The two men in his cell were silent as they gathered the water and their guns, their exit followed by the loud clanging of his metal cell door.

 

Gavin sat slumped on the table, chest heaving and lungs burning with his frantic effort to regain oxygen. He felt incredibly dizzy and his vision rose and fell like he was on a carousel. He closed his eyes to stop the sickening feeling. Splotches of yellow and red danced beneath his lids as his mind hung suspended between wakefulness and unconsciousness. 

 

Blue eyes and golden hair flashed by for a moment and Gavin whimpered, fingers flexing as they reached for something that wasn’t there.

 

***

 

Gavin screamed as the knife punctured his abdomen. It was wickedly curved and incredibly sharp, catching at and shredding his muscles as it was slowly withdrawn from his body. Hot blood dripped steadily down his furred stomach and onto his tattered pants from the now three knife wounds that decorated his body.

 

Dage Yi’s warm breath brushed by his ear, cooling the sweat that covered every inch of his skin. “Come now don’t be difficult.” He gave the dagger a final twist as he flicked it from Gavin’s body, allowing himself a sadistic grin at the whimper it drew from the agent beneath him. “Tell me where the ginger one and the girl went, tell me where they took it!” His voice reached a shrill note and sharpened fingernails dug into Gavin’s chest as he gripped the Brit.

 

Gavin shook his head, unable to contain the sob that followed his blatant defiance. Tears clung like tiny crystals to his lashes and his chest heaved with the effort it took to draw air into his lungs.

 

Dage Yi tutted disapprovingly, raising the knife for another cut before muffled gunshots and yelling stopped him. A thud sounded outside the cell door and he stepped uncertainly away from the table Gavin was strapped to. Irritation bubbled through him and he let loose a growl of frustration as he strode toward the door.

 

As he reached for the handle it exploded inwards in a billow of thick smoke and orange sparks. Dage Yi only had time to meet the icy gaze of what seemed to be death itself before a thunderous bang echoed in his ears and a bullet tore through his frontal lobe.

 

The triad leader fell forwards - eyes still wide open in shock and fear - and his body hit the ground with a hard thud. Ryan stepped over the body without a second glance and hurried to the table that Gavin was chained to.

 

The Brit’s eyes were glassy with pain and fatigue as he tried to focus on his rescuer.

 

“Ry - Ry’n…” His voice shook with exhaustion, although Ryan detected a faint note of confusion in the murmur before the younger agent’s eyes rolled backwards and he slumped onto the table; unconscious.

 

White hot anger raced through his veins as he gazed upon the other’s body, quickly cataloguing the mottled bruises and oozing cuts that tattooed his skin. Ryan worked quickly to bind the now sluggishly bleeding stab wounds before releasing the Brit from his chains and gathering him in his arms.

 

Ryan’s lips trembled as he placed a kiss upon Gavin’s forehead - the skin was slicked with sweat and deathly cold. Shouts echoed in the corridor and the older agent gripped his gun tighter, allowing himself a grim smile as he planned exactly how to enact his revenge.

 

********************

 

Gavin stayed in the infirmary for several weeks before he was granted release. In this time he was visited by as many of his co-workers as Caleb and Jack would allow. Either Michael or Meg would stay with him throughout most of his wakeful hours and he had to endure many tearful apologies from his purple haired partner as she explained to him how much it tore her heart to leave him behind.

 

Gavin had assured his forgiveness to both of his fellow Shanghai agents on multiple occasions, although he could not help but feel a little bitter at their lack of a rescue attempt. He brushed these dark thoughts away as often as he could - the psychologist had told him to try and not dwell on the events he had endured.

 

Gavin winced as Michael kicked his feet up on the white hospital bed, jostling his wounds. “Anyway,” he continued his story, voice muffled by the twizzler he was currently cramming into his mouth, “One minute Ryan is in the midst of deep cover in some Colombian drug cartel, next moment he’s disappeared altogether.” The Jersey agent’s curls bobbed as he shook his head and allowed himself a short bark of laughter.

 

“Ramsey and Sorola are freaking out, thinking that at best he’s been compromised and at worst he’s lying dead somewhere in the rainforest and then he just shows up at our Beijing base with you in his arms.”

 

Gavin smiled faintly as Michael continued to ramble. His limbs felt heavy and exhaustion tugged persistently at his eye lids. As he slid back into sleep Gavin could not help but be disappointed by the fact that Ryan had yet to visit him.

 

********************

 

Snow crunched under his boots as Gavin trudged down the Montreal street. He was tired from the plane flight, still recovering from his injuries, and the cold of the evening sapped his remaining strength.

 

Gavin had been given two weeks leave after being discharged from the infirmary - to recuperate and settle his tumultuous thoughts. He had not the faintest idea why he chose to then catch the earliest flight to Montreal, but the wintry city had called to him as he had sat alone and unsettled in his empty apartment.

 

The British agent sat himself down on a bench in the middle of a small, snow-covered park. The golden lights of the Notre Dame winked at him in the distance and Gavin allowed his gaze to unfocus as he looked upon the gilded halo that circled the cathedral.

 

Grey clouds - fat with snow - began to build up above but Gavin paid them no notice as he continued to brood on the frozen seat. He pulled his goose-feather down coat closer as the chill began to creep up his veins and into his heart. Ice formed along his brows and in his lashes.

 

The shuffle of footsteps upon dry snow sounded from behind him and Gavin sighed, not even turning to face the person behind him.

 

“What are you doing?”

 

“I knew I would find you here.” His deep voice was gravelly, as if sand had been poured down his throat. Still, it soothed Gavin more than any pain killer had in the past month.

 

Ryan moved around the bench and sat close beside Gavin, the warmth of his thigh leaching into Gavin’s own leg. They were silent for a long while, both watching the intricate white flakes begin to descend from above; ghostly flower petals blooming on a winter’s night.

 

“I am sorry Gavin,” Ryan’s voice hitched as he turned to face the Brit, the slight crook of his nose and the bruises surrounding it catching his eye. He reached up to stroke them tenderly, the soft touch not hurting Gavin’s numbed skin. “So very sorry…” he murmured.

 

Gavin turned away from his touch, not because it wasn’t welcome but because he hardly had the strength to not ask for more.

 

“You hurt me.” His voice wavered in the wind but it still felt like a blow to Ryan’s ears - they rung with the accusation. Gavin drew his gloved hands from his pocket and began to pull at the wool stitches that encased his fingers. “It wasn’t just her you know. There were others...you’d flirt and I don’t think you’d even realise. Your interest in me always seemed to be trumped by some other exotic bird or bloke.”

 

Gavin lifted his eyes to meet Ryan’s pained stare - he bit his lip, voice hitching as a brisk breeze circled between them. “I felt like…like I wasn’t good enough for you...like you had taken everything you had wanted.”

 

Ryan’s hands shot out from his own coat pockets, wrapping themselves around Gavin’s waist and drawing him as close as he could. Their lips met in a passionate kiss, as Ryan tried to convey his remorse and affection through the contact alone.

 

They drew away slightly, breath appearing as a white fog between them. Ryan’s eyes were wide, wild as he frantically searched Gavin’s face. “You are everything to me.” He breathed, completely enraptured by the forest green irises before him. “I flew halfway across the world and killed 40 men because without you there would be no reason for me to be here.” Ryan tightened his grip around Gavin’s waist as he moved in closer.

 

“I...I love you Gavin.” The confession was almost stolen by the wind as it began to tear at their hair and clothes, but Gavin heard it and it made his heart stop for a moment. A trembling hand reached up to brush a snowflake from Ryan’s cheek.

 

“Me too.” He whispered, “Of bloody course I love you Rye, me too!” Ryan smiled and then drew him in for another kiss. Around them the snow twisted and swirled upon the currents of the wind; hidden by the elements of nature, the world existed of nothing but each other.

 

***

 

The hotel room was shoved open as Ryan backed Gavin into the room. Their lips had not separated since they had left the elevator and the older man did not plan on that changing anytime soon.

 

Flames crackled cheerfully in an ornate fireplace and they both sank to the floor beside it. Ryan moved over Gavin, mindful not to rest his weight upon the Brit’s sore and battered body. They both allowed themselves to be lost in the others gaze, lips barely brushing as their breath mingled and warmed.

 

Ryan moved his lips to Gavin’s neck, tongue following along his pulse and up to his ear - he was rewarded with a sharp gasp from the man below him. He let a goofy grin shape his features as he pulled Gavin into himself. He needed to feel his skin, smell his hair - know that he was there, safe and in Ryan’s arms.

 

Gavin let out another gasp as their skin brushed in several places, “I love you” he breathed, slender fingers tangling in Ryan’s hair. The older agent could not stop himself from kissing Gavin deeply, stealing his breath and claiming those lips as his own. He smirked down at Gavin wickedly, a gleam in his eye as his rough palms brushed against the Brit’s bare stomach.

 

“Let’s see how many times I can make you scream that.”

 

***

 

A blizzard raged outside their bedroom window, a mess of white and grey. But inside, bundled under the covers and a pair of warm arms wrapped around his middle, Gavin had no fear for the silence and the cold of the night.

**Author's Note:**

> I only proofread this twice and it was like 2am so please let me know if you find any mistakes.
> 
> Sorry for the gratuitous fluff - I am indeed a lover of cheese.
> 
> Thanks for reading :)))))


End file.
